


Taken

by DinerGuy



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven coordinated attacks in the dead of night. Three missing team members. One day before it ends one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc, are property of the original creators. All original characters, settings, etc, are mine. No profit is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended.

G Callen never slept for very long at a time. He was usually up and about for over half the night, catching cat naps here and there and working on various things the rest of the time. It had driven Sam nuts when Callen had stayed at his friend's place. He was pretty sure Sam had been relieved when Hetty finally convinced Callen to get his own house.

Tonight was no different. It was half-past 3 am, and Callen had just settled down when suddenly, he froze, listening intently. A sound had caught his ear; it was the faintest of scratches, but it had him tensing in anticipation. It sounded suspiciously like a lock being picked.

He rose from the floor, padding towards the window that looked out towards the street. Placing his back against the wall, feeling the coolness of it against his bare skin, he snuck a look through the window. There were no shadowy figures at the door, and he didn't see anyone in the front yard. Turning, he made his way to the back of the house. One good thing about having no furniture was not having to worry about making his way through an obstacle of chairs, tables, and other items.

The sound came again, louder this time, and definitely from the backside of the house. The door began to open slowly, and Callen stepped back into the shadows of the hallway.

Two men entered, shutting the back door stealthily behind them. They looked around, as if surprised by the lack of furniture, before splitting up. One headed towards one side of the house, away from Callen's hiding place, while the other started directly towards where the agent had concealed himself.

Callen waited until the intruder passed in front of him, then he sprang into action. A quick step and swing across the back of the neck, and the hooded figure slumped to the ground, with only a light grunt to tell the tale.

Leaving the man where he had fallen for the time being, Callen turned and crept towards the other side of the house. The second intruder was just returning, having checked the bedrooms and closets and found nothing. He paused when he spotted Callen in the middle of the room, but only for a brief moment before charging.

Callen braced himself, swinging a foot up to connect with the oncoming man's abdomen. It was a solid hit, and the man stumbled back a few steps.

In that moment, Callen made his own advance, attacking with a one-two combination that spun the other man to the side. Not deterred, the intruder swung his own punch, but Callen dodged and countered with a roundhouse kick to the side.

The kick nearly dropped the man, but he recovered and delivered a heavy blow that nearly took Callen to the ground. He blinked, shaking his head to clear it as he concentrated on his opponent. Callen could feel the bruise starting to form on his cheekbone, but ignored it in favor of the fight. He brought his foot up to land squarely in the man's stomach, delivering a powerful uppercut to the chin that finally brought the intruder to the ground.

Callen placed his hands on his knees, resting his chin against his bare chest as he caught his breath before restraining the two intruders.

* * *

Sam Hanna jolted awake. Something was wrong.

It was nothing on which he could put his finger yet, but he had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sitting up in bed, he paused. There was no light coming in his window, though he knew he had turned on the outside lights before heading to bed. The bulbs were probably just burned out, although he had just replaced them the week before. It might be time to buy a new brand.

He heard nothing out of the ordinary but decided to investigate anyway, if for nothing else than to give himself the peace of mind that all was well. He retrieved his gun from the drawer and checked the clip before opening his bedroom door. He saw stars the minute he stepped into the hall.

Something had connected with the side of his skull, and he felt blood trickling down over his ear as he turned to face the threat. His movements were a little slow as he tried to regain his sight from the gray that had overtaken it. The spots cleared just in time for him to see a gun leveled at his chest.

"Drop the gun," the intruder demanded." Or I put a bullet through your chest and another through your stomach."

Though the man wore a mask, his voice sounded familiar, and Sam's eyes narrowed as he tried to place it.

"Now!" the man barked.

The ringing of a phone broke into the confrontation, but both men ignored it. Sam was calculating a move when, suddenly, the pressure of another gun barrel touched his back.

"I'd do as he said," came a voice from behind him.

Before Sam could make any further moves, a flash of light exploded in front of his eyes, and he collapsed.

* * *

The apartment was quiet and still when Kensi Blye awoke. She turned over, trying to get back to sleep, and noticed with some annoyance that the clock was dark. She shrugged it off to a power outage and settled into her pillow, about to drift back off when a muffled thump came from the hallway. Sitting up, she reached for the handgun she kept under her pillow, checking that it was loaded more out of habit than necessity - she had made sure to load the clip when she went to bed that night.

She stood, her bare feet sinking into the carpet as she took a slow step towards the hallway. Another few steps and she was standing beside the door. She braced herself, the wall cool through the back of her camisole. She held her gun at the ready in front of her chest, listening intently.

She could hear footfalls outside the room. Two men, she judged, and her mind began to spin through the reasons for them to break into her apartment. Most were not pretty. Gritting her teeth in determination, she waited to see if they would pass her room for the living area beyond, where most crooks would head to make off with a television or stereo. If they entered her room, however, she would guarantee they would get more than they bargained for.

The doorknob turned just then, the door creaking open slowly. Kensi waited, letting the man enter before showing herself. "Put your hands where I can see them," she demanded calmly. She waved the gun towards the bed. "Have a seat. Your partner can do the same."

The two men paused for a moment, obviously surprised at the turn of events. They were clothed completely in black, with ski masks obscuring their faces.

"Now," Kensi ordered, raising her volume. "Or I promise you won't have to worry about being arrested."

Moving to do as she ordered, the men suddenly stopped. Kensi could almost see the understanding that passed between them just before they charged her.

The sharp report of gunshots rang through the apartment, and footsteps began pounding in the hallway outside the front door as Kensi secured the intruder who was still conscious. She shook her head at him.

"You should have done what I asked."

Just then, her phone rang. She grabbed it from the dresser. "This is Kensi."

* * *

It was a fairly normal night for Marty Deeks. He'd picked up dinner on his way back to the apartment, just some Chinese from the little take-out place on the corner, and eaten in front of the television. Around midnight, he'd headed off to bed, setting the alarm on his clock before drifting off.

He wasn't a hard sleeper, exactly, but he wasn't exactly a light one either. At some point in the middle of the night, however, he awoke with a sense that something wasn't right. The room was dimly lit from the moonlight that came through the blinds, and he made out two dark forms that didn't belong in his doorway.

Halfway noting that the face of his clock was dark, Deeks sprung from the bed, calculating going for his gun or duking it out. The intruders rushed him, and he met the first one with a swift kick to the gut. As the man doubled over, Deeks delivered a punch to the other's face. The man cupped his nose with a grunt of pain, and Deeks followed through with a second punch that left his opponent unconscious.

Before he could turn on the other intruder, the man gave Deeks a sharp punch of his own. It was well-thrown, and Deeks slumped insensible to the floor.

The two men ignored the cell phone on the dresser that began to ring as they dragged their prisoner towards the apartment door.

* * *

Eric Beal never saw it coming. The tech operator had been up until about two that morning, having gotten carried away with his new computer project. He was sprawled on his couch, snoring softly, when his backdoor eased open.

Two shadowy figures entered, slipping towards the bedroom with the utmost caution. Failing to find their objective there, they returned, checking each room as they went. Arriving in the living room, they glanced at each other before getting to work.

When Eric's cell rang moments later, there was no one in the house to hear it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I did my best in figuring out how protocol for handling these sort of things works, but I can't guarantee that everything here is correct. Any errors are not intentional.

"This was obviously coordinated by some organized team," Kensi observed, looking up at Callen. "The way all of our places had the electricity cut, and the way we were all hit at nearly the same time. There's got to be a connection."

He nodded. "But what's that connection? And why were we targeted?"

It was several hours later, and Callen and Kensi were seated at their desks, each with a hand around a steaming mug, reviewing evidence. Three of the prisoners were being held, waiting to be questioned by the agents. The other had not survived the bullet from Kensi.

After Callen had taken control of the situation at his house, he had called NCIS with the warning that he had been attacked in his home. A pair of agents was sent to assist him in bringing in the two prisoners, while alerts were sent to the other team members, requesting they confirm their current location and head in to headquarters as soon as possible. When no response was received from any of the agents after sixty seconds, it was followed up by a phone call.

At that point, Kensi had just finished dealing with her situation. Agents were dispatched to her apartment, as well as a paramedic team, to take care of the intruders. However, neither the alerts nor the calls were answered by Sam, Eric, or Deeks, and teams made their way to the location of the phones to make sure that they were all right. Teams were also sent to both Hetty and Nell's residences. Hetty had just arrived back in town from a series of meetings in DC, while Nell was out of the country on personal vacation time.

By the time Callen and Kensi arrived at headquarters, the teams had reported in to say the other three agents were missing. There was evidence of a break-in and struggle at both Deeks and Sam's apartments, and there was evidence that Eric had been taken as well. Both Hetty's house and Nell's apartment had been ransacked, as if the intruders had checked every possible hiding place before leaving. Callen had to chuckle at the thought of Hetty hiding from danger, although he didn't voice the amusement to her directly.

"Mr. Callen."

Callen looked up to see Hetty approaching. "Were you able to get into contact with Nell?" he asked. With Eric missing, they needed the other half of their tech team to cut her vacation short.

"Ms. Jones is backpacking in the mountains of Chile. She is currently unreachable," Hetty replied, shaking her head. "We are doing our best to establish contact and get her back to assist in this investigation."

"So where does that put us?" Kensi asked.

"With a borrowed technician." Hetty leveled a look at the two agents. "Find them."

They nodded in silent agreement and turned back to the photographs, searching for clues they may have missed previously.

* * *

His head hurt.

That was the first thing that Sam noticed. The second was that his hands were cuffed behind his back.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his neck and shoulder.

"Sam, are you all right?" a voice asked worriedly.

Eric was sitting against the wall on the opposite side of the small room, his hands behind his back. He was watching Sam with a concerned expression.

"As much as someone who was ambushed in their house can be. You all right?" Sam returned, studying the smaller man.

"Yeah, pretty much. Better than you, I'd say."

Sam chuckled lightly, rolling his head from side to side to stretch out the muscles as he looked around the room. He immediately noticed a limp form in the corner. His eyes narrowed as he recognized Deeks.

"He's been out since I woke up," Eric said, noticing Sam's look. "Judging from the size of that goose egg, whoever took him gave him a pretty good hit."

Something was eating at Sam's thoughts. "Eric, what do you remember about last night?" he asked, studying their surroundings.

They appeared to be in some sort of shed. The walls were solid wood, though sunlight made its way through several cracks around the perimeter of the building. Their prison was small; Sam estimated each wall to be about ten feet long. The slightly sloped tin roof was about ten feet off the floor, which was constructed of solid wood.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Eric replied. "I stayed up late working on a project and fell asleep on my couch. The next thing I knew, I was waking up here." He locked gazes with Sam. "What about you?"

"Two guys broke into my apartment," Sam told him. "The one I saw sounded familiar."

"Sounded?"

"They were masked." Sam paused in thought. "But I can't remember where I've met him," he finally sighed, his voice edged with frustration.

"You did just get knocked out a few hours ago," Eric pointed out. "Give yourself some time."

They were quiet for a few minutes, then Sam looked back up at Eric. "We need a way out of here."

"I've already tried the door. It's barred from the outside. Sounded like a chain and padlock, too."

Sam grimaced. "All right, so not through the door. Can we get the boards in the wall loose?"

"They seem pretty solid," Eric replied. "But with both of us working together, we might be able to kick through in the corner. There's a small hole in the boards there."

Sam nodded, glad to have a possible way of escape. "So we kick those out, and we go. Could you tell if there were any guards?"

"No." Eric shook his head apologetically. "Not from what I could see, but there might be."

As if on cue, voices floated into the shed. Sam and Eric fell silent as they listened to the men outside.

"You think they're awake yet?" a nasally voice asked.

A deeper voice responded. "I don't know." The man chuckled. "I hit the detective guy pretty hard."

"Whatever," the first man responded. "It wasn't like I had that hard of a job to do, taking out the tech geek. Talk about easy."

Sam glanced over at Eric, who had a look on his face that was a mixture of anger and annoyance. Giving him an apologetic smile and a shake of his head, Sam turned his focus back to the voices.

"So we just sit here?" the nasally voice was complaining. "I honestly doubt they'll be any trouble."

"Well, it's what we were told to do, so I say we do it," was the reply. "Besides, if they somehow manage to escape, we'll be in trouble, so it's probably in our best interest to do what we were told."

"All right," the first man grumbled. "Did you at least bring the beer?"

"Yeah, but we gotta be careful and not drink too much. You know how Willy gets when his people can't do their jobs. It's in the house; come on."

The voices faded away, and Sam turned back to Eric. "I have definitely heard those voices before," he whispered.

"Does the name Willy ring any bells?" Eric asked.

"None I recognize." Sam looked upset with himself. "I should know this, Eric."

"Know what?" a new voice joined the conversation.

Eric and Sam turned with relieved looks on their faces.

"Welcome back." Sam gave Deeks a small grin. "You feeling all right?"

"I'd be feeling better if I knew what was going on." Deeks looked around the small space. "Where are we, and why are we handcuffed?"

Sam shook his head. "We're still trying to figure that part out." He looked Deeks up and down. "You feeling up to helping us out?"

"Escaping? Of course." Deeks looked between the other two. "What's the plan?"


	3. Chapter 3

Callen strode into the interrogation room, tossing a file onto the table as he took a seat. "Alex Wallace. How nice to see you again."

The man on the other side of the table just scowled.

"Okay," Callen folded his hands and sat forward. "I remember you, you remember me, let's skip the introductions and get down to business." The man continued to stare at him, so Callen shrugged. "Maybe you're suffering from memory loss? Let's go back to last year when your gang was busted."

"That was an unlucky break," Wallace snorted.

"Well, unlucky break or not, we did arrest some of your gang. But somehow you weren't there when it went down."

Wallace rolled his eyes. "Look, man, I can't help my travel habits."

"No? All right, then," Callen didn't press the issue. "But do you mind telling me why you were in my house early this morning?"

Wallace remained silent, but he continued glaring at Callen.

"Judging from my missing teammates, I think it's safe to say you and your friend were there to take me with you," Callen continued. "Which brings up the question of why you needed to in the first place. Tell me," he leaned closer to Wallace, "why is that?"

When the other man still refused to answer, Callen narrowed his eyes into a steely glare. "You're looking at a lot of time behind bars for the attempted kidnapping of a federal agent. And since we can prove that all the men we arrested this morning were part of your gang, if anything at all has happened to our teammates, you are in even more serious trouble."

Wallace shifted in his seat for a moment before replying. "All I'm going to say is that you'll be hearing from my boss soon. He wants his men back."

"His men?" Callen repeated. "You and the others from last night?"

"No." Wallace looked slightly amused. "The men NCIS arrested last year."

"Agent Callen!"

Until then, Callen hadn't realized how much he had come to depend upon Eric's methods of calling him up to the tech room, even if the whistling got on his nerves sometimes. Judging by the look on Kensi's face, she was having similar thoughts.

The man waved at the two agents when they turned to face him. "I have something," was all he said before turning and striding out of sight.

Hetty was waiting for them when they mounted the stairs and entered the room. The only light came from the large plasma screens mounted on two of the walls, along with various other computers around the room.

"We've gotten IDs on the four intruders," the tech began as soon as Callen and Kensi appeared in the doorway. The man, whom Hetty had informed them was named Philip Roberts, was just about Callen's height, on the heavier side, with dark hair and eyes. A thick pair of glasses sat on his nose, which seemed to be slightly too large for him, as he pushed them up every few minutes. He pressed a button on his handset and four photographs appeared on the screen.

Callen and Kensi each straightened slightly in recognition as they studied the images.

"Alex Wallace, Kurt Martin, Gordon Jones, and Robert North," Philip read off the names of each of the men. "All four have ties to an old case your team ran about a year ago. Uh, they were part of a drug ring in LA Several of the gang were arrested and are still serving time."

Brow furrowed in thought, Callen nodded slowly. "I remember. We had Sam undercover as a driver in the operation."

"Yes, Mr. Callen," Hetty acknowledged. "Those on our team were the only people who knew he was undercover. We made sure to have Mr. Hanna arrested with the others, and as far as we knew, no one in the gang was aware that it was an NCIS operation."

"So how did the gang find out Sam was an agent?" Callen wondered aloud.

"And how did they make the whole team?" Kensi added.

* * *

"Just one problem with that," Deeks commented once Sam had explained his plan. "Did you forget about the whole handcuffed issue? I mean, we can't just widen a hole and sneak out of wherever we are with them still on."

"I'm working on that," Sam told him.

They fell silent for a moment, then Eric's face lit up. "You know what? I've got a couple of paperclips in my pocket. Could you straighten one out to use to pick the lock on the handcuffs?"

Sam nodded in approval. "That just might work."

Eric grinned in satisfaction then frowned slightly. "I think I can get to them ..." After a bit of twisting, he was able to get his right hand into his right front pocket. His left arm protested being pulled so far, but he ignored it. Digging out two paperclips, Eric let both arms drop to a more comfortable position behind his back. He turned around so his back was to Sam. "Here."

Sam turned backwards as well, moving his hands until they touched Eric's. He felt the paperclips between the other man's fingers and grabbed one. "All right," he acknowledged. "I've got it."

Eric released his grip, causing a jangling sound as the second clip hit the floor. Meanwhile, Sam was working to straighten the clip in his hand. A minute later, a low clicking sound was heard as he unlocked his handcuffs. Pulling his hands in front of him, he rubbed his wrists, restoring the circulation before moving to pick the locks on the other men's restraints.

The three then turned their attention to the wall. There was a small hole in the bottom corner that appeared to have been chewed as an entrance for some small rodent. Sam pointed to it.

"We can use that hole as a starting point, widen it enough to get through." Sam pointed.

Setting to work, they had soon removed several boards from the shed's corner. After listening for a moment to make sure they had not been discovered, Sam cautiously stuck his head out of the hole to look around.

They were well out of the suburbs, though where exactly, Sam couldn't tell. There was a large wooded area in the back of the property, and to the right, Sam could see a large house. A barbecue grill sat on the deck, and a pool was situated in the center of the yard. There were no guards that he could see, but he knew there were at least two inside the house. Not much cover was available; they would have to act quickly once they were out.

He pulled back in and turned to the others. "Okay, let's go."

Eric had squeezed through the hole and Deeks was just about to follow him when a jangling sound came from the door of the shed. Sam hurried to stand beside the door, flattening himself slightly against the wall. As the door swung open, Sam reached up and pulled the man inside. He closed the door with one foot while simultaneously using the element of surprise to put the man in a choke hold.

Once the guard was unconscious, Sam pulled the man's gun from his belt, checking the clip. He cracked the door slightly to check that no one had seen what had just happened. There were no alarms, no shouts, nothing to indicate that he'd been spotted.

He quickly ducked through the hole, joining Deeks and Eric near the corner of the shed. They made a mad dash for the nearest cover, a dilapidated pickup that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Shouts from the house told them their flight had been noticed. They dove behind the truck just as the first bullets began flying.

Deeks grunted in pain as he hit the ground. Sam and Eric quickly turned, and Eric couldn't bite back a gasp at the slowly growing blood stain on the right shoulder of Deeks' shirt.

"I'm … I'm fine," Deeks assured them, tightening his grip on his shoulder with his left hand.

Sam's expression said he disagreed.

"What should we do?" Eric asked, fighting the panic in his voice. It was one thing to be in the tech room, assisting as needed while hearing a firefight through the comms. It was quite another to be in the line of bullets.

Sam stuck his head up over the truck bed for a moment, quickly ducking back as several bullets whizzed past his ear. After a moment, he leaned around the front of the truck, firing off several rounds before sitting back next to Eric. "I can't hold them off for long/ I've only got about ten shots left."

"So what's the plan?" Deeks' face was set, determined to do whatever possible to end the situation, but Sam cold see the pain in his eyes.

Sam's eyes were dark and set. "I'll lay down cover fire. You two get to the woods. From there, it should be a straight shot to the road."

"What about you?" Deeks asked, biting his lip.

"You need medical attention," Sam said firmly. "You should be able to make it with Eric's help."

"While you stay behind?" Eric raised an eyebrow. "Isn't there a solution where we all get back to the team together?"

"Eric." Sam's tone was firm and decided. "I'll be fine. Deeks needs a hospital or he's going to bleed out. Now when I start shooting, you take him and go. I'll follow when I can."

Leaving no room for argument, he looked over at Deeks. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Eric nodded.

Deeks grit his teeth and nodded as well.

"Go!" Sam leapt up, squeezing several shots in quick succession.

Eric helped Deeks to his feet, and they both half-crouched as they ran for the treeline. Several bullets flew past, thudding into the dirt around their feet, kicking up small puffs of dust.

Sam returned fire as quickly as he could. He managed to find his mark with one of the shots, sending one of the gunmen reeling to the ground with a bullet in his chest.

Several other men ran out to join the remaining shooter, having heard the commotion. Sam was down to his last round, and he ducked down for a moment to cast a glance in the direction the other two men had fled. They were nowhere to be seen and he breathed a small sigh of relief before rising to make his last shot count.


	4. Chapter 4

Eric's worry for Sam was pushed to the back of his mind as he had to focus almost all of his energy on supporting Deeks. The other man was losing blood quickly, as evidenced by the slick red liquid that stained both Deeks' and Eric's shirts. Eric had suggested stopping so they could tie his belt around Deeks' shoulder, but Deeks had shaken his head.

"We need to put as much distance between them and us as possible," he stated firmly.

Eric was inclined to agree, especially when a rustling in the dead leaves behind them told of pursuit. Deeks led them in a zig zag path that Eric assumed was to throw off their pursuers.

He lost track of how long they had been running; everything seemed to be one big blur. He half-expected to hear shouts from behind them, to hear shots and feel bullets, but nothing came. Deeks' face was slowly growing paler, though he was maintaining his grip on Eric's shoulder as well as he could manage. He hadn't complained, but Eric could tell he was in pain.

Deeks grunted again as they climbed over a fallen log. Suddenly, his grasp loosened and he crumpled to the ground.

"Oh crap." Eric barely had time to react, just managing to catch the other man before he hit the ground. He stumbled slightly under the unexpected shift in weight, then helped him sit as comfortably as possible against the log they had just crossed over. He knelt beside Deeks to inspect the agent's shoulder.

Sweat was beading on Deeks' forehead, and his face was devoid of nearly all color. "I'll ... be fine. We've got to get to the road," he protested.

Eric raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "It doesn't matter. We have to get you taken care of."

He had to swallow and look away for a moment at the sight of the bloody wound. He was used to working with computers, and while he had seen his share of violence, most of it was via videos. This was a little too close for comfort, but Deeks needed him, so after a few deep breaths, he steeled himself and turned back to the task before him.

Unbuckling his belt, Eric pulled it through the pant loops, then took off his button-down shirt as well. The majority of his white tshirt was soaked with blood, but he swallowed and ignored it. He folded the Hawaiian print shirt over Deeks' shoulder, covering both the entrance and exit wounds as best he could, then secured it with his belt, wrapping it under his armpit and pulling the buckle tight.

Deeks grunted as the belt tightened, the pressure adding to the pain that was already almost more than he could take. Sweat was beading on his brow, and Eric noted with worry that he had grown even more pale.

Even though they didn't have the luxury of stopping for any length of time, Eric's exhaustion won over, and he sank into a more comfortable position where he had been kneeling. His feet were beginning to blister from the fast pace they had been traveling. Until now, he would have sworn by the flip flops he wore to work every day, but now he was beginning to seriously consider the benefits of even a pair of comfortable tennis shoes.

Just as he began feeling sorry for himself, his self-pity was replaced by guilt as he glanced at Deeks' feet. The agent had been taken from his bed and as such, had been wearing no shoes. Their rapid flight through the underbrush had led them over many sharp rocks and sticks, and the soles of Deeks feet were torn and bloodied.

Swallowing again, Eric took off his own shoes. Whatever it took, they were going to make it to the road, even if he had to carry Deeks the rest of the way.

* * *

"Agent Callen!"

Looking up from the papers on his desk, Callen saw Philip approaching with a device in hand. "Yes?"

"I believe you'll want to hear this," the other man replied. "One of the last known addresses for Alex Wallace has had a lot of traffic in and out over the past few days, as far back as I can look, more than you would normally expect from a secluded place with quite a bit of empty wooded area around it. But, knowing about the whole drug thing, it makes sense; it's the perfect place for them to use. That made me curious, so I did some digging, and it looks like there was a pretty large amount of traffic heading in this morning."

"So you think that's where they're keeping Deeks, Eric, and Sam?" Kensi had joined them by this point.

Philip nodded. "It's a good bet. I went over traffic camera footage from one of the roads leading to Wallace's property, and similar vehicles to those seen near Sam and Eric's places drove out there within an hour of the kidnappings."

"That's good enough for me." Callen stood. "Let's go."

* * *

The place was eerily deserted when the agents arrived half an hour later. Callen cautiously exited the driver's side, his gun drawn, as Kensi did the same on her side.

"It looks like we're a little late to the party," she commented.

Callen nodded, looking around. "It doesn't seem like there's anyone here. No vehicles, and no signs of life of any sort." He turned to the second team of agents they had brought with them as back up. "Let's go over the house and any other buildings around the place. I want to know if anyone's still here and if there are any signs of our men."

"Callen." Kensi nodded towards a small shed near the back of the property. It was just visible from where they stood on the drive.

It didn't take long to glance over the inside of the small building, and their attention was drawn to the handcuffs lying on the ground.

"Well," Callen observed, studying the hole in the back of the wall. "I think it's safe to say they were here."


	5. Chapter 5

Kensi had followed the tracks behind the shed easily enough, and she and Callen were in the woods in no time, intent on finding their missing team members. They had left the others back at the house, going over it with a fine-toothed comb for any indications of where the inhabitants had gone.

Meanwhile, worried thoughts were tumbling through Callen's head. There had only been two sets of tracks leading away from the place where there had obviously been some sort of firefight. The blood on the old car and the signs that there had been a scuffle there as well did nothing to help his concern. Someone from his team was hurt and had not gotten away, yet he didn't know who or what had happened to them. Kensi's best guess was that Deeks and Eric had gotten away, but there was no telling who had been injured.

The other question was where the two who had escaped were now.

There were periodic spots of blood on the forest floor, the drips long and spread out as if whoever had been bleeding had also been running. Here and there, part of a bloody footprint stained the leaves as well.

They had been at it for nearly half an hour when the ringing of a phone broke the silence. Callen quickly retrieved his cell and answered, his eyes holding a hidden hopefulness. He hit a button and put the device on speaker. "Hetty, Kensi and I are both here."

"Mr. Callen, we've received news that Mr. Beale and Mr. Deeks were picked up by a passing motorist fifteen minutes ago a few miles south of your current location," Hetty's voice came through the phone. "Eric is relatively okay, but Deeks was shot and has lost a lot of blood. He's headed for surgery right now at Pacific Beach Medical. However, the doctors say they expect him to survive." Hetty paused, then continued. "We were able to get descriptions of two of the men who were at the hideout. They've been identified as Ray Smith and Paul Hammond, who are known associates of the men we have in custody."

"I've been running facial recognition on the security and traffic cameras, but it could take a while," Philip's voice came through the line now. "There's a lot of feeds to cover."

"Okay," Callen acknowledged. "Let me know as soon as you get any hits. We're headed back to the house now." His voice was less strained with stress than before. He looked over at his teammate, catching the worry in her face. "Deeks is a strong guy. He'll get through this."

She nodded and bit her lower lip. "I know … It's just, I've already lost one partner, Callen. I can't lose another one." Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat then turned back to the way from which they had come. "Let's find Sam."

The walk back to the house took a little less time, as they were now hurrying, not carefully keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of their teammates. As they exited the woods and strode up the back lawn towards the house, one of the other agents came out to join them.

"Agent Callen! I thought you might want to see this. It looks like most of the place was cleaned out," the agent explained as they stepped through the sliding glass door, "no computers, no files. But it looks like they were hurrying, sloppy. We've pulled several sets of prints from various surfaces in the house, and we found a flash drive as well."

"Good. Keep looking; I want this place gone over with a fine-toothed comb," Callen directed. "We're going back to headquarters; call me if you find anything."

* * *

When Sam groggily came to his senses again, he was in almost-complete darkness. A small amount of light filtered under a door on the far side of the small room in which he was confined. The cold of the concrete floor seeped through the thin fabric of his tshirt and Sam could feel the cinderblock wall against his back. Added to the fact that he could hear the faint metallic sounds of rolling doors from beyond his door, Sam guessed he was now in a warehouse, though where he had no idea.

His head was still pounding from whatever they had given him, but he pushed to a sitting position anyway. He wasn't going to accomplish anything by staying put, and there was no telling when his captors would reappear. It was best to get himself out of this mess than to wait around for something to happen. There was no telling if his team even knew where he was, so for now he would operate under the assumption that they did not. He would either need to get out on his own or find a way to let the others know where he was.

Cautiously, he pushed to a standing position. He had to steady himself with a hand against the wall for a moment, but a few deep breaths later, he was good to go. Even though he knew what the result would be, Sam made his way to the door and tried the handle. Just as he had suspected, it was locked securely.

Guided by the dim light, he slowly walked the perimeter of the room, running his hands along the walls to see if he could locate any other exits than the locked door. However, there was only solid cinderblock the entire length of the small room.

* * *

The familiar whistle rang across the bullpen. At the sound, Kensi and Callen hurried from their desks and nearly flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time to reach the tech room in record time.

Eric was back at his computer when they walked in, Philip by his side. Both men's fingers flew across their keyboards, their eyes fixed on the screens in front of them. Eric swiveled in his chair when he heard them enter, reaching for his handheld controller. He looked thoroughly exhausted but also determined to do whatever necessary to find their still-missing team member.

"You sure you're up to doing this?" Callen asked, taking in the other man's worn features.

"I'm fine," Eric waved off the concern. "Now, as you know, we've had a facial recognition program searching through various security and traffic camera footage for Ray Smith or Paul Hammond, and it finally turned up something. We would have found it sooner, but the parameters were set to start closest to where the hideout was, and this footage came from the warehouse district, which is quite a ways away. Anyway," he cleared his throat as he caught the look Kensi was shooting him, "take a look."

With the click of a button, the large wall screen came to life with the slightly grainy, black-and-white images of video from a traffic camera. Eric hit another button and the footage paused. A light-colored delivery van was frozen midway across an intersection.

"This was taken about an hour ago," Eric informed them. "And this …" He hit another button, pulling up footage from a different camera. "This was taken ten minutes afterwards."

The new video, which appeared to have been taken from a security camera across the street from the location in which they were interested, showed that same van pulling through the sliding doors of a warehouse, which were then closed behind it by a dark figure.

"Do we have an ID on the new guy?" Callen asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Yes," Philip answered from his seat, looking up from his computer. He type a command on the keyboard, and the image on screen zoomed in on the figure, clarifying the pixilated image. A mug shot appeared on screen beside the man on the video. It showed a tall, lanky man with short, curly brown hair and dark beady eyes.

"His name is Lou Bradley," Philip explained, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Done time in the local jail for breaking and entering, as well as several other times for drug possession."

Callen and Kensi studied the image, then Kensi turned to Eric. "Have they left the warehouse yet?"

"I've been monitoring all activity in and out of the area," he answered. "Hammond and Bradley both drove off in different vehicles half an hour ago, but only Bradley has returned so far. They've also been joined by two men, one of whom has done time on drug-related charges."

"Mr. Callen." Hetty, who had been quiet up to this point, now looked steadily at the lead agent. "Bring him back."


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was still busy thinking over the best way to get out of the small room when heavy footsteps and the sound of jangling keys sounded from outside the door. He hurried from where he stood across the room to stand beside the doorframe just as the door swung open. The man who entered held his gun in one hand, as if to be prepared for whatever the prisoner might try.

However, he apparently wasn't expecting Sam to be waiting for him. With a well-aimed punch and the element of surprise, Sam laid him out cold before the surprised man had time to react. A quick search of his pockets revealed the key to the handcuffs, and Sam was soon free. He took the man's gun, then put the cuffs to use in securing the still-unconscious man.

There was also a cell phone on the man's belt, and Sam quickly put it to use.

* * *

Callen and Kensi were just exiting their vehicle near the warehouse Eric had identified when Callen's phone rang. He quickly glanced at the caller ID then flipped it open. "Talk to me, Eric."

"Callen!" Eric was speaking in the quick urgent way he always did when he had something important to tell the others. "We just got a call from Sam."

"What?" Callen exclaimed.

Kensi looked up at the tone of Callen's voice.

"Where is he?" Callen asked.

"It looks like we were right on the location. I was able to trace the cell he called from, and he's right inside the warehouse. He said he was fine, but we lost the connection. It could just be a battery or signal issue, but I don't know for sure."

Callen nodded firmly, even though he knew Eric could only hear him. "Don't worry. We'll get him back."

* * *

Along with half a dozen men in full SWAT gear, Kensi and Callen stealthily advanced to an entrance beside the large rolling door. One of the men forced the door in, and the team poured in. Several men who had been positioned as guards near the front raised their guns to fire but were quickly eliminated by shots from two of the SWAT officers.

Shouts could now be heard from the back of the warehouse, and several more men rushed out with guns drawn. They managed to get some shots off in the team's direction, but Callen's weapon took out one while bullets from Kensi and one of the officers brought down the others.

Guns drawn, the team advanced through the building, keeping their eyes peeled for any further threats.

* * *

Sam locked the door behind himself then hurried quietly down the narrow hallway. Doors lined the corridor, apparently leading to various offices and supply closets. The entire place was empty and quiet, save for the periodic noises that buildings tend to make on their own.

Suddenly the stillness was shattered by the rapid reports of gunfire. Sam tensed, glancing around for the source of the sound. Seeing no one, he made his way towards the doorway at the end of the hall, holding the gun at the ready in front of him, prepared in case any of the shooters came into sight.

He opened the door cautiously, half-expecting bullets to begin ricocheting off the metal above his head. None came, however.

Sam hurried carefully to his right, ducking behind a stack of crates to survey the room.

His gaze was drawn across the large room to where several men crouched behind crates, leaning around or standing to fire their guns before ducking back behind cover. The various crates obscured Sam's view of at whom the men were shooting, but he had a pretty good idea of what was going on, especially once one of the gunmen turned slightly and Sam recognized him as one of the men at the previous hideout.

One of the gunmen suddenly jerked backwards, bullets exploding from his machine gun as he fell to the floor.

Sam ducked as the stray shots embedded themselves in the crate beside him. Splinters flew around him, a few digging into his bare arms.

Another gunman was quickly taken out the same way, and several figures rounded a stack of crates at the far end of the room. Sam immediately recognized his partner, and he couldn't help smiling a little. Of course G would come through; he always did.

Sam's attention was pulled over to the other side of the room by a quick movement. It was unseen by the others, as there were several crates between them and the only remaining gunman. The man, who was leaning to one side, the wetness of his shirt showing he'd been wounded, was taking aim at Callen from his hiding place.

Sam glanced back over at his partner. There was no way Callen could see the shooter, but the man had the clearest shot one could hope for.

He raised his own gun to bring the man down, but it was impossible to get any aim; the man had ducked lower behind the crates and there was now much more between the two of them.

The man's finger moved towards the trigger and Sam stopped debating about what to do.

He launched himself from his hiding place with a shout of, "G, get down!"

All of the room's occupants spun to face him. Callen instinctively ducked at the sound of his partner's voice, his gun coming up at the same time, while the gunman brought his weapon to bear on the new threat. Sam squeezed off several shots in the shooter's direction as the man fired as well.

Bullets from each gun impacted at the same time, sending both Sam and the gunman backwards in opposite directions.

"Sam!" Callen ran to where his partner was lying on the concrete floor, a pool of blood quickly gathering under him.

Kensi strode hurriedly to check on the shooter. Sam's shots had found their marks, and the man was already gone. She then turned to where Callen was leaning over Sam, her expression both firm and worried. The SWAT officers who were accompanying them fanned out to check the rest of the warehouse for any remaining shooters as Kensi dialed Eric.

Callen was frenetically pressing his folded jacket against Sam's shoulder, keeping his eyes focused on his partner's face. "Sam. Sam, stay with me."

"I'll be fine, G," Sam assured him, gritting his teeth against the pain that was shooting down his arm and through his chest with each breath.

"Ambulance will be here in a few minutes," Kensi reported, kneeling on the other side of Sam. Her worried eyes took in the quickly growing stain on the floor and the blood that was soaking through Callen's jacket to slick the agent's hands.

"I'll be fine," Sam repeated, though he was now beginning to breathe heavily.

Callen's jaw worked. "Sam ..." He kept his face firm, not letting his feelings through in his expression, but his mind was going unbidden back to the day they had finally located Dom … When they had done their best to rescue their teammate only to lose him at the end … That scene was not going to repeat itself today, not if Callen could help it.


	7. Chapter 7

Several weeks later, Callen stood in the cemetery, looking down at the headstone at his feet. It was still early in the morning, and a cool gust of wind swept over him from time to time. He had set out on a run to clear his head, not planning to stop by, but his feet had taken him there, and now he stood lost in thought.

He heard a muffled footfall behind him and turned slightly. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he turned forwards again. "Didn't expect to see you here."

The newcomer stopped beside him, joining him in looking off into the distance. "I had a feeling you would be here."

They said nothing for a few moments, then the man beside him spoke again. "You know you did your best."

Callen ran a hand over his head. "I know that. I just can't help thinking about what happened to Dom and how if we had gotten to him as soon as we got to you, things could have been different."

"Don't do this again." Sam adjusted his sling as he continued, "You know as well as I do that you need to put it behind you and move on. The memories are important, but torturing yourself with them doesn't help."

Callen shot his partner a look. "You've been hanging around Hetty too long, Sam."

The other man chuckled. "I guess I have."

"Just watch yourself next time," Callen told him, the grin fading slightly. "I don't want to have to pull you out of something like that ever again."

"Hey, you want to get a bite to eat?" Sam asked after a moment of silence. "I think Deeks said something about hamburgers."

"You're going to trust Deeks to find us a decent place to eat?" Callen raised an eyebrow.

Sam shrugged. "It was either that or let Kensi find something."

"Ah," Callen nodded. "Let's go with the hamburgers."

Sam chuckled. "Come on; they're waiting for us."


End file.
